His Greatest Wish
by Domestic-Goddess
Summary: A cute realization story from Harry's point of view. Slash. Fluff.


"Hello, Potter."

I know that voice. The one that no matter how sincere it means to be, always is caustic and hard not to miss. Why was he talking to me? It had been so long since he had last made an insult towards me. Was he starting back up again because he had gotten bored?

I looked up from my Potions book and stared straight into his eyes. They were simply some of the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. They were clouded, with hidden emotions just waiting to burst out, yet they beckoned you in. They were so fascinating, since they were the strangest blue eyes I had ever seen. They were the night sky with dots of clouds. They were-

Am I really talking about Malfoy's eyes? Where the hell did that come from! I shook my head lightly and blinked my eyes.

"What do you want?" He looked at me in mock sadness, clamping one hand over his heart and the other one to his forehead, leaning back as if he were hurt and insulted.

"Want? Want? Do I ALWAYS have to _want_ something from you, Potter? Can I not just talk to you like a normal person?"

"No."

"Oh I'm poor little Potter, and no one wants to talk to me like a normal person because I'm not a bloody hero or bloody rich or bloody handsome! No one likes me!" He wailed softly.

"Merlin, Potter, you're pathetic."

Right, _I'm_ pathetic?. Wait. Did he just call me _handsome?_ Merlin, no. No. No. No.

While I kept repeating 'no' in my head, I subconsciously registered that his lips started to move, which I took to mean he was talking. I was proved right when that voice shook me back into reality.

"Potter? POTTER? Wake up Potty! No sleep-sleep in the library!" he finished in a sing-song voice.

"Shut up, Malfoy." His nose flared.

"Not until you listen to me!"

"Why does this all have to be about you, Malfoy, huh? Why don't you go talk to your cronies?" He rolled his eyes and plopped down on the couch next to me, but distancing himself enough to make it look like a coincidence.

"They're dull and boring," he whined, and started to pick at his manicure nails, "but you, Potter, you are as fascinating as they get. I've always wondered how someone could be as dumb as dirt and yet still be considered the second most eligible bachelor at Hogwarts.

'Do not punch, do not punch' I repeated to myself. I slammed my Potions book and stood up to leave. But as I did, so did Malfoy.

"Where are you going?" He smirked and said nothing. I continued to walk out the door and quickened my pace to the common room. But while doing so I heard another pair of shoes do the same thing, so I took a wrong turn to the Astronomy Tower. I heard a snicker behind me, but I gripped my book tighter and continued walking down the dimly lit wall and quickly pushed my way into an opened doorway, shoved it closed, and turned the lock.

I fell against the frame of the door from relief of getting rid of Malfoy. I only realized I let my guard down to soon after I was hurled from the door and skid against the floor and blacked out.

"Oh look, he's stirring."

"Stirring? What are you, some novelist?"

"Shut it. How are you, Harry?" My eyes blinked into focus on a familiar Slytherin girl. Genevieve was her name, and she had a look of real concern on her face.

"Was I hit by a bulldozer?" I asked groggily, and Draco asked a faint 'Bull-whatta?' and Genevieve just grinned.

"No, but you were hit with a powerful spell this idiot over here," she motioned her head towards Malfoy, "decided to use to open the door. How are you feeling?"

"Like a couple of trolls played ping pong using their clubs as paddles and me as the ball. How'd you get here?" She told me Malfoy had come to get her help, because he didn't know what do. I did a double take.

"Malfoy tried to _help me?_" Malfoy gave me a sheepish grin, and I was tongue-tied.

"Well," started Genevieve, "I guess I'm finished here. Bye." She finished as she walked out the door with a wave, but not before flashing a wicked grin at me.

"What is going on?" I demanded. Draco just laid back on the floor, stretched out and curled into a ball like a graceful cat, closing one eye and leaving a slit of the other open to look at me. I started to get mad so I scooted over to him and looked at him.

"Stop staring Potter. I know I'm beautiful, but I can _feel _your eyes on me!" I gagged.

"You are not beautiful. You're-" but I realized I couldn't finish. He wasn't ugly, that was for sure. And I couldn't just say he was beautiful.

"I'm what, Potter?" he said as he sat up and stared at me while leaning closer.

"You're……you're…..," but he kept getting closer, and those damned beautiful eyes of his were distracting me.

He got about and inch away from me and stopped. His breath caressed my lips, and I scooted back. His eyes saddened.

"Scared, Potter?" he said with no malice like he did the first time, but with a light depression instead. My heart started to get off beat when I saw his face darken. I didn't know why, but I did a crazy thing.

"You wish," I said as I swooped and placed a kiss on his lips that _was_ felicity.

I pulled back, fully expecting to be tortured with the Avada Kedavra, but instead I found Draco Malfoy, looking like he had just been granted his greatest wish. And you know what?

I think he had.


End file.
